


Moving On

by drunkniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkniall/pseuds/drunkniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Is that—is she—is she with you right now? She’s staying over?” Harry sounds so hurt and betrayed, it makes Niall’s heart drop. He doesn’t show it though. Harry didn’t have any mercy when he was with Kendall. Niall can have this.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yeah, she is,” is all Niall says.</i>
</p><p> <i>“That should be me. That should be me, for fuck’s sake,” Harry suddenly yells.</i></p><p>Or; Harry finds out about Niall's new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> I do not believe Niall is using Celine to get revenge! It's just a fic, it doesn't reflect how I feel about Niall and Celine dating. Of course, I'd rather see Niall with Harry, but if Niall's happy, that's what's most important.
> 
> Sorry for any spelling mistakes.

_Harry calling._

Niall ignores it. Ignores the seven times Harry calls. Ignores the boy’s messages and voicemails, too.

He knows the pictures must have leaked by now. Knows all his fans have seen the pictures; the pictures of him and Celine. She’s a great girl. Fun to be around. Smart. Doesn’t take anything too serious. And she’s gorgeous. Has that kind of smile that makes people fall in love. Niall thinks he’s one of those people.

_Harry calling._

Niall looks at the screen for three seconds, the selfie of Harry and him laying in Niall's bunk on the bus, Niall laughing brightly at Harry who had just told a joke lights up his screen. He really should change that picture to one of a cat. Or a frog. Anything but that picture. He sighs and picks up the phone. Harry’s voice sounds wet, trembling, in his ear.

“Niall,” he says, begs, pleads.

“Harry,” Niall greets.

“Tell me it’s not you. Tell me you’re not kissing her. Or that it was a bet,” Harry sounds wheezy, as if he’s not breathing properly.

Niall thinks back to when _he_ was the one calling Harry. When _Harry_ was the one who was on that stupid yacht with Kendall, spending New Year’s with her instead of with Niall. Niall cannot recall another moment where he had been that hurt. Nevertheless, his relationship with Celine is not meant to be revenge on _yachtgate_. It’s not. Niall genuinely likes her. He really does.

Niall’s voice is harsh and cold when the next words slip out of his mouth. “It is me. I am kissing her. It wasn’t a bet.”

Harry makes a messy, wet sound. “No.”

And then again, “No.”

“Harry, you knew-“

“You’re not dating her. You’re dating _me_. I’m the one you’re dating,” Harry whispers, a desperate tone to it.

Niall lets out an empty laugh. “I’m dating Celine now, Harry. Accept it.”

Silence. 

“Why are you acting like this?” Harry asks, voice so sad. Niall can almost imagine him, laying on the bed in his trailer, running his hand through his hair over and over again, staring at the ceiling as he presses the phone to his ear.

“Acting like what? I’m not doing anything. You’re the one who’s acting, remember? S’why I haven’t seen you or heard from you in months, yeah? You don’t get to abandon me for so long and suddenly decide to claim me when I’ve finally found someone who actually wants to spend time with me, unlike some,” Niall hisses, getting angry. 

He tries to lower his voice, so he won’t wake Celine, who’s sleeping next to him. He looks down at her, at the way her hair is all spread out around her head, a small frown appearing on her forehead before it relaxes again, the way her skin contrasts against the white duvet. He gently strokes her cheek, not intending to wake her up but just feeling like admiring who she is. It does make her move, though, a soft, sleepy sound escaping her lips.

Niall bites his lip, hoping Harry didn’t catch that.

“Is that—is she—is she with you right now? She’s staying over?” Harry sounds so hurt and betrayed, it makes Niall’s heart drop. He doesn’t show it though. Harry didn’t have any mercy when he was with Kendall. Niall can have this.

“Yeah, she is,” is all Niall says.

“That should be me. That should be me, for fuck’s sake,” Harry suddenly yells, making Niall flinch, dragging the phone away from his ear. He decides to continue the phone call somewhere else. It’s hot enough for Niall not to pull on a sweater, so he gets up and walks through his room to the door in his boxers. When he passes the large mirror, his eyes immediately catch onto the huge love bite in his neck. It makes him grin. 

He hears rustling again, dragging him back to the current situation. Oh right. Harry.

“You had your chance, Harry. I won’t be your rebound fuck anymore. I won’t be your second choice anymore. Maybe you should call Kendall again, hm? I bet she would say yes in a heartbeat to see you again.” Niall knows he’s being ruthlessly harsh, but he has every reason to, doesn’t he?

“You never ever were a second choice, or a rebound fuck, Niall. You know that. We talked about this.”

“Oh, did we? We talked about it? More like you tried to come up with excuses and I was too in love with you to question them,” Niall bites back.

“Baby, please—“

“I'm _not_ your baby. You lost the right to call me that. I’m not your fucking baby,” Niall doesn’t even know why he doesn’t just hang up. It would save Harry the hurt and it would save him a headache and a broken heart, all over again.

“Listen, Harry, I’ve got to go,” Niall tries to get in edgeways, but Harry seems to be muttering to himself, not hearing whatever Niall is saying. Niall catches the words lost and idiot.

“I’ll call you sometime,” Niall promises, and he’s about to hang up when—

“No. No, don’t hang up on me. No, no, no,” Harry whimpers, followed by a dull thudding sound, as if Harry is repeatedly banging his head against a door or a wall. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t give up on me.”

“It’s too late, Harry.” Niall enters his kitchen, leaning against the counter so he’s facing the fridge. Memories flood him. Memories of Harry making him one of the pastry recipes he had found online and insisted to try. The batter would end up everywhere except for in the oven. Memories of Harry and him doing the dishes like a domestic couple, loudly singing along to Fleetwood Mac or The Lumineers. Memories of Harry feeding him bites of a dish he can’t remember the name of as they watched TV, Niall lazily sitting in Harry’s lap.

Niall shakes his head. Those times are over. He’s ready to make new memories with someone else. He’d be honoured if that someone else would turn out to be Celine.

“It’s not. I know you still love me. That you’re still thinking about me, even though you’re with her,” Harry says. He sounds so sure of himself, so convinced.

Niall bites his lip hard. He knows his answer to that statement will either make or break Harry. It will either lead to them making up or to them becoming strangers again. 

“I don’t love you anymore, Harry. Not like that.”

Harry falls silent, the only sound being heard is his breathing, quick and laboured.

“You don’t mean that,” Harry sputters weakly. “I’m so sorry, Niall. I know I promised you it would be you and I. I know I failed to keep that promise, but I—“

“Harry, please don’t do this. I’ve heard it all before. I don’t care which excuse you’ve got ready now. I’m happy with her, okay? Isn’t that what you want, for me to be happy?” Niall knows he’s playing dirty now. Really fucking dirty and cruel and mean. He barely recognises himself anymore. The things Harry does to him, apparently.

“You’re not happy. You think you are, but you aren’t.”

“I am. I really am happy. I’m falling for h—“ 

“No. Don't finish that fucking sentence. No!” Harry yells, followed by a lot of loud noise, as if Harry has thrown his phone against the wall. 

The last thing Niall hears is Harry crying. Not the cute kind of sobbing, but the full on, pained, hoarse crying. Then dial tone.

Niall pretends hearing Harry crying doesn’t make his heart shatter. Pretends he doesn’t hate himself that moment. Pretends Harry isn’t what he needs.

Niall is really good at pretending.


End file.
